Sami's War
by SilverFox442
Summary: Follow one UNSC Lieutenant General and those around her from the defense of Earth through a mission few would dare propose. Rated M for harsh language and graphic violence. NOTE: Discontinued, to be re-written as "Sami's War: The Siege of Hades"
1. Prologue: Morales

Prologue: _Morales_

**1329 Hours (EST), October 24, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**Boston, Massachusetts, USA**

"Perfect. Just perfect," Kevin Morales mumbled as the skies above Boston opened and rainwater began to drench his clothes. Ever since the Covenant had found Earth, people were in a panic, with some running away from places they deemed unsafe and others running towards those very locations. It made traffic a mess, and navigating on foot took significantly longer than Kevin had planned. Standing on the street corner, he glanced at the traffic light. It changed from green to yellow, and Kevin gave a little smile at that. It was the first short light of the day.

That meant a lot when almost everything recently was bad news. The worst bit was the fact that the Covenant had found Earth, which made his plan to take a space-faring yacht, tricked out with enough gear to make an ONI Prowler jealous, deep into Covenant space meaningless. On top of that, it seemed ONI was beginning to take notice of his plan, someone had stolen his car, and the Covenant had chosen to land in New Mombasa, exactly where Kevin had set up a weapons locker for the participants of the mission. And it was raining.

Kevin ran across the street as soon as traffic stopped moving, not waiting for the walk sign to change. Everything may have been going to hell in a hand basket, but there was still the possibility of doing something with his preparations. For that, he needed to talk to Janissary James, Jersey Morelli, and an AI that had somehow ended up on Jersey's computer. Then he'd have to convince them all to go with him. He knew he'd have no problem convincing Jan. It was Jersey and the AI that he was worried about. Well, mostly Jersey. The AI would be willing to do anything to get away from contact with the Office of Naval Intelligence. The problem with Jersey was that he was the kind of person who would imagine himself to better in tight strategic situations than he actually was. In short, he was a liability.

Crossing another street towards the two's apartments, Kevin noticed two men in black coats following him. He walked down another block, and then crossed back over to the right side of the street. The men followed his moves. Apparently, ONI was better informed than he had thought. The men started walking faster, and so did Kevin. They kept taking every opportunity to get closer, and finally, Kevin just broke into a run, crossing the busy street to leave them behind. Unfortunately, there were more men waiting on the other side. He barely avoided running into them, then sprinted away as fast as he could.

Bullets struck the sidewalk around Kevin's feet, and he realized that he hadn't heard the agents shoot at him. They were using silenced weapons to avoid alerting other civilians, he realized. And with people absorbed in their own business as their automated cars drove them to and from work and home, it would be easy to mistake the results of a bullet wound to his leg for those of slipping on the wet concrete.

The rain continued to pour down as he ran from his pursuers, cutting across the street twice to avoid traps the agents had set up for him. Unfortunately, it also slowed him down, allowing his assailants to catch up with him enough to keep him in range of their silenced M7 SMG's and M6 pistols. He felt something hit him in the left arm as a black car approached to his right. At first, Kevin thought the truck was going to jump the curb and take him out, and he was about to dodge to the left when he recognized both the driver and the truck. He stood perfectly still, and it missed him by inches and drove straight into the midst of the Section-III agents. As they dived out of the way, Kevin made a dash for the truck, which had stopped barely a few feet from smashing into the storefronts. He threw the passenger door open and threw himself into the cab.

"What are you waiting for, Jan, let's get the hell out of here!" he shouted at the blonde girl in the driver seat, slamming the door shut as he did so. Jan stomped on the accelerator, pulling off the sidewalk and back onto the street as the agents slowly got to their feet and started shooting at the truck. Both Kevin and Jan ducked when spider-web cracks began appearing on the back window, but they were soon out of the range of their assailants' weapons.

"Sorry about the dramatic entrance, but it looked like you were in trouble," Jan said as she drove the truck towards the Third Street Tunnel.

"Thank you for that, no thanks for stealing my truck," Kevin returned.

"I didn't steal it. Durga told me you were coming earlier, and about five minutes ago, the invisible man showed up driving your truck."

Kevin was thoroughly confused. "What do you mean, 'the invisible man'?"

Jan shrugged. "I don't know, he had some kind of adaptive camouflage suit on or something. I could kinda make out where he was because the light got bent weird at some spots, but he didn't ever turn it off."

"Where did he go after he dropped my car off?" Kevin asked.

Jan shrugged again. "Beats me. For all I know, he could be laying down in the back."

After another minute of driving, they reached the Third Street Tunnel, which had signs and barricades up to indicate it was closed for maintainance work. Jan just drove through one of the thin plastic barriers. "A whole lot of good those do," she muttered to herself, then turned to Kevin. "The guy in the camo suit said this route would be safer."

For most of the tunnel's length, that man's assessment proved accurate. As they drew closer to the end, though, three military-grade Warthogs began approaching from the rear. While they didn't have any turrets, the danger their occupants posed to a civilian vehicle was clear to both of the truck's sharp-eyed occupants. Jan stomped on the accelerator again, trying to keep ahead of their pursuers. Even so, the Warthogs continued to creep forward. Jan checked the clock. 1:42 PM. The Third Street Tunnel exited in the wharf district, and at this time of day in late October, it would be deserted. The ONI agents wouldn't hesitate to open fire on them.

The rear window shattered as a wild spray of bullets from an MA5C impacted the truck. Suddenly, Kevin's truck lurched as something stressed the shocks in the back of the vehicle.

"What the hell? Did we hit a pothole?" Kevin shouted as they exited the tunnel, Warthogs close behind. He was more worried that they had hit an explosive at first, but quickly realized that if they had, there wouldn't be much truck left.

* * *

"What the hell?" the driver of the lead Warthog shouted as the front of his vehicle jerked up and down as if something heavy had landed on the hood. As they exited the tunnel and rain once again began falling on the occupants, he could see the water trickle down the outline of some invisible figure on the hood for one second before it reached down and violently flung him from the speeding vehicle. The passenger aimed his gun at the outline, but found it being wrenched from his grasp and the butt being slammed into his forehead. As he slumped in his seat, the camouflaged figure swung into the driver seat in one fluid motion and aimed the dead passenger's rifle at the occupants of the nearest vehicle. One whole 32-round clip later, and the driver of the Warthog had more than enough holes in his chest to kill him.

In the meantime, the other Warthog had taken advantage of the fray to rush after Jan and Kevin. The invisible man gunned the 'Hog he had commandeered and raced after them. When he was about ten feet off the other Warthog's rear bumper, he could hear the crack of the passenger's MA5C over the rain drumming on the windshield and the wind howling by like a pack of wolves. He drew a pistol from his hip and pulled to the right. Carefully, he tried to line the pistol's laser sight on the passenger's bald head. A silent prayer passed his lips as he aimed, then pulled the trigger once.

The passenger dropped his rifle and clutched at his neck. Rather than hitting the man in the head, the round had gone all the way through his neck. Jan and Kevin's invisible guardian pulled alongside the ONI Warthog and emptied the rest of the M6C/SOCOM's magazine into the agents. The vehicle slowed, then pulled to the left and drove into one of the old fish-processing plants that dotted the area. The camouflaged man drove on, opening a secure radio channel as he did so.

"Max? It's Matthew. That should be all of them," he said.

"_I may hate these jobs General Hartford sends me on, but that's nice to hear. Good job, Spartan."_

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**Well, that's that. The re-written version of the prologue to this story. The original can be found on deviantArt, but be advised, this is the revised edition of the story, and will be much smoother to read, and better quality in general. If you want to read ahead, though, my dA username is SilverFox442. I recently finished Chapter 6 of the un-edited version.**


	2. Chapter 1: Federal Offense

Chapter One: _Federal Offense_

**1000 hours (EST), November 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**  
**Sol System, Planet Earth**  
**Outside Washington, D.C., USA**

Sami felt herself violently thrown face first onto an examining table. Screaming, she tried to struggle away from her captors, but to no avail. Restraints were tightened across her arms and legs, and she felt a needle jab into her left arm. Soon, she couldn't move at all, though she was still very much awake. All she could see was the ground beneath her, as her head hung over the edge of the table. She could hear her captors, doctors and scientists, talking behind her, but she couldn't make out what they were saying.

Then they started operating. Deep incisions were cut into her, causing unbelievably intense surges of pain. She could feel every painful inch the scalpels cut from her feet, up her legs, along her spine, and up to the base of her neck. Then the doctors began cutting from her fingers, up her arms, ending in the same place at the base of her neck. What happened next was like salt being poured into the wounds, but ten times worse. If she had any control over her voluntary muscle movements, she would have screamed, but there was no such release. Then whatever had been placed in the cuts on her began moving. It felt like a thousand burning ants had just been let loose inside her. As some of…whatever those things were…touched her nerves, the pain intensified again…

And then everything went black as she was suddenly thrown forward with no restraints at all and then came to a sudden, painful stop. Sami opened her eyes to see the inside of the Pelican she was riding in. Specifically, the floor and the door to the cabin she had just hit her head on. Sitting up, she rubbed her head and looked at her arms. Sure enough, the scars from that operation so long ago were still there. The pain, however, was gone, just a horrible memory of an event that had taken place five-hundred years ago. The pain of scars always died away, but they always left memories. Sami only had two other sets of scars, one on her left thigh, the other on her chest. Both scars were bullet wounds, one old, one new. They were the only scars more recent than those from 2010, and the only reason they were still visible was because Sami didn't let her nanobots heal the wounds that had made them. The memories were too important to erase with the scars, so Sami let them heal without assistance from the nanobots in her body.

UNSC Marine Corps Lieutenant General Samantha Erin Hartford sighed at her thoughts as a worn-down, tired look came over her seemingly young face. It was hard to deal with life, especially when that life was expected to be twenty times longer than that of the average human; a false immortality produced by a combination of luck, nanobots, and genetics, extenuated by ice and sleep, and yet just as easily ended as any other life. Her bullet scars were reminders of that. _No_, she thought, _immortality is definitely NOT what it's cracked up to be_. Especially not when that "immortality" had claimed the lives of over one-hundred unwilling people, and made forfeit the lives of sixty politicians and scientists.

Sami stood up. At an even six-feet in height, she was tall for a woman, and even stood taller than some of the male officers in the UNSC. Brushing a loose strand of orange-red hair out of her face (and making a mental note to get it trimmed soon), she noticed that her armor had been thrown out of the seat she had placed it in as well. As she went to pick it up, she was thrown forward once more as the Pelican braked hard. Deciding against trying to don the combat armor in a bucking aircraft, she pulled a partially-crushed candy bar and a green strip of fabric out of the mess. Quickly, she tied the strip into a headband to keep her neck-length hair out of her dull brown eyes. Unwrapping the chocolate and biting off a piece, the General entered the cockpit of the Pelican to get an update on the situation.

The pilot turned when he saw Sami enter. "Sleep well, ma'am?"

The general gave a short, bitter laugh. "No thanks to your flying. You know I don't get to sleep much…"

"True enough, but I figured you'd want to be woken up if we came under attack, so…"

"Kiss my ass." Sami had a major problem trying to sleep, one that went all the way back to 2110, when she had placed herself cryo for the first time. She spent 410 years in one of the old, long-term-storage tubes in an attempt to get some rest. Several doctors - and even Sami herself - had concluded at the time that the insomnia began as a result of having a 136-year-old mind in the body of a 25-year-old. In 2552, thirty-two years after being woken up again to deal with some stupid Insurrectionist problem Sami had no interest in, there were also the issues of being chronologically over 500 years old, and having the culture shock of waking up four-hundred years from the last time she saw the world, and seeing how much - or how little - things had changed. Add to that the mysterious disappearance of her four-year-old genetic daughter in 2537, and Sami should have been a complete psychological wreck.

She should have been, but she didn't show it. Thirty-two years was more than enough time to adapt to the culture of the era, and she seemed to have come to grips with her own issues in life in 2547. She still suffered from the famous military disease called "post-traumatic stress disorder", still grew tense whenever her daughter's name was mentioned, and at times, her face adopted a weary look, so contrary to its young appearance, that betrayed the Lieutenant General's true age. Even so, no one ever commented that she wasn't psychologically or physically fit for battle. In fact, were it not for her rank, she would have been out on the front lines with a sniper rifle in her hands. Few people dared to make the claim that they were better shots. Only one person had ever out-shot Sami in a contest… and that person was a SPARTAN-II.

"Coming in for a landing now, ma'am," the pilot said. "Please make sure your seatbacks and tray-tables are in an upright and locked position." Smiling under his helmet, he looked back at the general. "We should be clear from here on in, so feel free to put your armor on."

As the Pelican came in for its landing, Sami returned to the rear of the craft and took advantage of the relatively smooth stretch of the ride to don her armor. Aside from a few aesthetic changes, it was just a set of standard issue armor plating given to combat officers in the UNSC Marine Corps. Which meant it offered no forearm protection, an irritating fact, but unlikely to be problematic at HQ. Three hand-painted silver stars decorated the olive green shoulder pieces, and on the left side of the chest piece, a blue anchor had been painted behind the UNSC eagle and globe. Turning to the racks above the dropship's seats, Sami reached up and pulled down a long, gray case. Carefully setting it on the floor, she undid the latches and opened it. The red lights inside the cabin glinted off the modern-materials replica of the M107 Barrett .50 cal sniper rifle the case protected. Sami removed the gun from its case, welcoming the feel of the cold steel in her hands and against her bare forearms. It reminded her of her days in Afghanistan, when she commanded her squad from behind the scope of rifle like this one. Holding it, she felt those memories flowing back like the cool mountain breeze she felt on her first mission with the gun, untainted by assassinations and scientific experiments. After grabbing a few clips of ammo, Sami slid the sniper onto her back, the magnetic latches in the armor grabbing onto the gun and holding it fast with a series of light clicks.

"_So be it. Threaten no more. To secure peace is to prepare for war,"_ Sami began singing, the growl in her voice matching that of the original singer. Unlike the original singer, however, she meant every word in full. No one was going to fuck with her and get away with it, no matter how much firepower they had. _"So be it. Settle the score. Touch me again for the words that you will hear evermore."_

Sami picked up and loaded her pistol as she finished the line, and at the same time the Pelican touched down in the forward command base in Bethesda, Maryland, just outside Washington, D.C. The rear doors opened, revealing a small welcoming committee in the form of two colonels.

"_Don't tread on me,"_ she finished quietly. "At ease, boys," she addressed the two men standing at attention outside the aircraft, "How's the war been treating you?"

"War's been good, war's been bad, who gives a shit, so long as we're getting paid," said one of the colonels, a tall, bulky man with a gruff voice and a face to match. Evidently an old soldier who had seen his share of combat, judging from the scars on his face and the scratches in the body armor he was wearing. "Welcome to D.C., General Hartford. I'm Colonel Victor Hoffman."

Sami shook his hand, then turned to the other colonel, a lanky man wearing a pair of glasses and a uniform far too official for the situation, who was still saluting. "I said, at ease, Colonel…?" She paused before addressing him fully, since there was a large tear in his shirt right where his name should have been.

"Colonel Isaac Norman, ma'am," he replied. "I'm in charge of logistics. Hoffman's in charge of the armored units. And, I wish I could share his enthusiasm about the situation, but things have been getting pretty hot recently. We've had more than our share of close calls from mortars."

"Ah, don't give me that load of horse shit, Ike," Colonel Hoffman broke in. He turned to the lieutenant general. "This glorified quartermaster here's just pissy 'cause he got a hole torn in his shirt by a random piece of shrapnel one of those wraith shells threw up. If it doesn't draw blood," he turned back to glare at Colonel Norman, "it isn't worth getting your panties in a bunch over."

"Colonel Hoffman, we're two of the four people who made up the central command here before General Hartford showed up," Colonel Norman countered in a surprisingly fierce manner considering how much smaller he was than Colonel Hoffman. "If that piece of shrapnel had flown one inch to the left, we would have lost one fourth of our command structure and one third of its intelligence. Now do you still think-"

"Who all is in charge here?" Sami interrupted. "I came out on such short notice, I didn't get to check the briefing report properly."

"Brigadier General Joseph Prescott is currently the commanding officer of the forces in the immediate vicinity." Sami winced inwardly as Norman spoke. The reason the one-star was in charge was not because of his own skill, but rather because most of UNSC HighCom had been on Reach when it was attacked. People Sami had known, argued with, and drank with. Then again, that was her life. People died around her no matter what, be it war or old age. "I'm in charge of logistics here, Hoffman's in charge of the armored units. I honestly can't remember who the other Colonel here is though. I know she's in charge of the airborne wings though. Red hair, real pretty…" Norman looked like he was giving himself a mental beating for forgetting who the other officer was.

"You would be thinking of _Colonel Rachel Hartford_, my sister," Sami reminded him in annoyance. "If you're in charge of logistics, then you should have better memory than that."

Colonel Norman stood up straight at that comment and pushed up the bridge of his glasses, like the bookish corporal Sami had relied on for public relations in Afghanistan did whenever he got defensive in an argument. "You are Lieutenant General Samantha Erin Hartford, born in 1984, joined the USMC fresh out of high school in 2002, served in the Afghanistan conflict against the Taliban, abducted for illegal experimentation while on leave in Colorado in 2007. Escaped in 2012, subsequently assassinated over sixty high-profile supporters of those and similar experiments. Went into cryo in 2110 to try to deal with insomnia problems, revived in 2520 in response to increasing insurrectionist activity in the Outer Colonies. Promoted to Lieutenant General in 2527, after assisting in several attempts to retake Harvest from the Covenant. One daughter, named…" he broke off when Sami winced at his bringing up the topic of her daughter. "Should I stop there?"

Sami shook her head _no_. "Just leave out the personal details of that."

The logistics officer nodded, then picked up where he left off. "One daughter, who went missing in 2537 and is currently presumed dead. Sister is Rachel Sarah Hartford, born 1989, joined USMC in 2009, after two years of college. Seriously injured in 2013, placed into cryo to save her life. On your request, General, she was left in cryo until 2521, when you ordered her to be revived." He then took a deep breath after his long recital. "I'm sorry that I'm not very good at putting together names and faces, but I can tell you anything you need to know concerning supplies or history. I'd have gone into more detail but I don't want to waste your time," he finished.

"You left out my refusal to participate in Operation TREBUCHET," Sami said, smiling lightly. "If you want to move on, you gotta know when to kiss ass and when to kick it." She shifted focus to Colonel Hoffman. "So, where's the main command center located?"

"It's in the fire department's basement," Hoffman said. "Follow me." As Sami and Colonel Norman followed after the other colonel, Norman turned to the lieutenant general.

"I'm terribly sorry about bringing up that bit about your daughter. If I had known, I-"

"Just shut up." The lieutenant general's extremely brusque reply immediately achieved its intended effect on the apologetic colonel.

Before long, the trio reached the fire department building, which was being guarded by more soldiers than a supermax prison. On the ground floor were quartermasters sorting through supplies and radio operators monitoring the comm channels and occasionally arguing with a stubborn pilot. As they descended into the basement, Sami couldn't help but feel that there just wasn't enough strength in the building to make it a secure choice for the main command center. Even so, it was probably the best option available to the troops. That fact scared her. Her house on the Mount Antero military base was much better fortified. Still, she couldn't and wouldn't accept leading the defense of the country from that far behind the lines. Being here boosted morale and gave her at the very least proximity to battle. Vulnerability was the price she paid for it.

"General Prescott, we have a visitor!" Colonel Hoffman shouted out. Almost everyone immediately turned around and saluted when they saw the lieutenant general. One man, an officer dressed in BDU's who appeared by his posture to be in his thirties and who was leaning over the glowing surface of some kind of table took a little more time, but he still stood at attention when he saw who the "visitor" was. After a quick "at ease" from Sami, the man began to speak.

"So, General Hartford, what brings you here to favorite place on earth?" he said sarcastically, subconsciously running his left hand through his hair, hair that was so light blonde, it looked white from a distance. Premature aging white. He extended his hand right hand to shake Sami's, then continued. "I'm Brigadier General Joseph Prescott, most likely the _former_ commander of the UNSCDF Marine forces in and around this city."

"You would be correct in that assumption, Prescott," Sami answered. "I'm assuming command here. Even if I do hate this place like I hate politics." She spoke to the one-star in a friendly manner that belied her concern at having an inexperienced officer in charge up to that point.

General Prescott nodded. "Alright then, let's get you up to speed on the current situation here." He walked back over to the glowing table. The glow turned out to be from an interactive map of the city…or, more accurately, the battlefield.

"Here's where HQ and most of our forces are right now," Prescott began, pointing at a collection of green dots to the west of the city proper. Pointing far to the south of the city, in some park on the west bank of the Potomac, he continued "Here's where and Elite carrier crashed about twenty-four hours ago. Shot down by the Brutes. We don't know what their situation is, and no one's bothered to check yet. They're afraid that the Elites will still try to fight us at the same time as they're fighting the Brutes." Prescott then directed Sami's attention to the city itself. "There's two Brute controlled ships above the city. There's an assault carrier over the former location of the capitol building, which you probably saw, and a CCS-class battle cruiser's sitting around up north. The Brutes occupy about seventy-five percent of the city itself, mostly in the north and east. We've made a few small attacks to the south, and we know Echo company of the 543rd Marine infantry division was there before they got cut off from us. I think they're still alive, but I can't be sure, as we haven't received any radio communications."

"What kind of forces are we looking at here, Prescott?" Sami asked.

"For the Covies…" Prescott shrugged. "A cruiser and a carrier full, however many fuckers that is. You know, nothing to _really_ worry about. For us, I can't give any solid figures either. We've got a few Hornet wings circling the area, I think only one wing of Sparrowhawks, unfortunately not at base at the moment. We have one regiment's worth of infantry right around HQ, two more on their way in. We've also got part of an armored battalion here, and more on the way. As for Pelicans, well, we've got more than enough of them." He paused as if done, then quickly added, "Oh, there's about ten Siegebreaker Elephants coming in as well, plus a few more without the howitzers. Add a few tanks and such and you've got our reinforcements."

Sami nodded. "How are the troops doing, then?"

Prescott turned his hands up and shrugged in an "_I don't know_" gesture. "Things have been really busy around here lately, I haven't gotten to check things out. I can't imagine that it's very good or bad."

"If we don't know the current state of the Marines outside, then we should probably make a quick inspection," Sami suggested. Inwardly, she was still worried. Yes, Prescott had kept the forces under his command from being overrun. However, he was a lot like all high-ranking officers thrust into tough situations without much prior experience, letting the small yet important details like a quick check on the status of the troops slip by as they focused on the battle itself. Details that, in tight situations, could make or break a fight.

"That's a fine idea," Hoffman said before Prescott could react. "Let's get movin' and makin' sure all our leathernecks are bustin' their asses off!"

"Calm down, Colonel," Prescott said, then turned to the lieutenant general. "Let's go."

There was no announcement concerning the inspection. The four officers simply walked out of the fire department building and began making rounds. A few of the Marines took note of the officers and rose to salute, but most simply carried on with the duties they were performing. It was interesting to see just how suburban geometry was adapted to military needs: while it was relatively easily fortified, it also made vehicle travel more difficult. Most of the tanks and warthogs were holding position on the southwest side of the base, avoiding the narrow streets of the main HQ. There were still a few heavy vehicles in the forward sections for defense, but most of the defenses were in the hands of Marine infantry.

"Just like old times…" Sami said to herself when the four officers were about halfway through the inspection.

"What about it exactly?" She looked over her shoulder at Colonel Norman. She must have spoken louder than she thought she had.

"It reminds me of the war in the Balkans in the 2030's. Specifically, one incident just two weeks before I broke my legs being a hero." She slowed her walk as a glazed look came over her eyes.

"The day started out perfectly fine. Just another normal day for me as a major, report to one of the forward bases under my command and do a routine inspection. A lot like this one, actually," she added, glancing back over her shoulder to make sure everyone was still following her, then continued. "It was still early in the morning, so there was still a pretty thick fog over the ground. The curse of fighting in a river basin, you understand. I'd just checked up on the snipers, who couldn't see a damn thing. Tried checking out the visibility myself, couldn't see anything, even with the infrared on. Cold fog masks heat signatures like nothing else.

"I was on my way over to our artillery when the first shell came down. Shockwave knocked me off my feet, but I survived it. I stood right where I was, at first. No one aims two shells at the same place unless they're trying to destroy a fortified position. Second shell hit, and I ran towards the barracks, screaming that we were under attack the whole way. Everyone who heard started getting ready almost immediately. Probably saved half of the soldiers right there. Just after I warned the other officers to take cover, I heard a blast from where the snipers I had talked to were posted, and I ran back to check." She sighed. "It wasn't pretty. One of then got his stomach blown and his spine severed. Got blown out of his clothes, too. There was just a red stain and a few bits of flesh where the other one had been. By that time, most of the enlisted soldiers were ready, and I saw them begin streaming out of the barracks. Not five seconds later, it took a direct hit. No one who was in it could have survived.

"That's when the enemy started attacking. Serbians, Russians, Belarusians – that's who we were fighting. Everyone knew the sound of AK-47's and AK-74's. Those damn guns stayed in service all the way through the 2060's. Someone, must have been a quartermaster or something, ran by me and handed me my Mk 14 Mod 0 battle rifle and a whole sack of ammo. Pentagon usually issued them to SEALS, but I managed to pry one out of them for myself. Took up position right where the dead snipers had been and started unloading. Seven-point-six-two by fifty-one does a lot of damage when it hits someone. I can safely say that no one made it past me." Sami closed her eyes and turned towards the east. "I can't say the same for everyone else. They got all the way to where the barracks were before I noticed. Distracted soldiers make easy targets.

"In that period of time, they started bombing runs. Hell raining down from the sky. For a second, I thought I understood what those guys in For Whom the Bell Tolls felt like. Then, one of the planes just blew up. Three Sukhoi-37's with gold and blue flags on their wings and two F-22's with a star and crescent on the right tail fins flew by. The MiG's scattered like flies. But not before they dropped a few last bombs. One hit a tanker truck full of gasoline. I don't really remember what happened right after that, but I do remember waking up with burnt and tattered BDU's and half of my face torn off, from just under my left eye to the right side of my chin. I'm surprised I kept my nose, to be honest."

She turned towards Colonel Hoffman. "And if you don't understand why I still have a perfect, pretty little face, Victor, it's because I heal fast and efficiently. For the rest of you, the nanobots took care of it nice and quick. Still had bandages over my face for a week, though." Sami let her eyes slowly track skyward, as if she were following something in the distance. "And if we don't want today to be a repeat performance of that day…" she began, then paused, as if to calculate something. "We should probably move, because hell's about to rain down on our heads." The other officers finally looked up, and saw the tell-tale comet streak of a plasma mortar arcing in their direction.

Colonel Hoffman and General Prescott both broke into a run for the nearest building, while Sami had to practically drag Colonel Norman along with her. She was still about fifty meters from the house when the first mortar hit behind them, sending a column of blackened earth, concrete, and pavement skyward as a wave of heat spread over the area. The shelling finally snapped Colonel Norman back to his senses, and he ran as fast as he could behind the lieutenant general to the building. The barrage continued for about thirty seconds, during which cries of confusion and panic permeated the air. One mortar struck the opposite end of the building the four officers were using for cover, blasting off much of the roof and tearing a gaping hole in one wall.

When the shelling finally ended, the officers emerged from the now-roofless building only to face a new problem. Silhouetted against the morning sky were the outlines of at least twenty phantoms, accompanied by half-again as many Banshees, all of which were rapidly nearing the UNSC forces.

Sami pulled out a comm/PDA out of one of the extra pockets on her armor and quickly entered an access code on the screen, linking the device to the base's main radio and PA systems.

"Attention all Marines!" she broadcast over the loudspeakers. "If you haven't done so already, get to defensive positions, 'cause it looks like we're in for a rough one!" Switching frequencies, she directed orders to nearby armored and airborne units. "Siegebreakers, suppress those damn plasma mortars!" Switching frequencies again: "Hornet Alpha flight, how far out are you from HQ?"

"We're about thirteen minutes out," a female voice responded, "Why, something going down back at base?"

"Hell, yes, Rachel. We've got a shitload of Covenant air and ground headed our way, ETA…" Sami check the skies to the northeast as a series of dull booms echoed from the west, signifying that the Siegebreaker Elephants had begun firing their howitzers. "…less than three minutes, coming in from the northeast."

"Roger that. We'll get there as soon as we can. Alpha flight out."

_I really hope you haven't been drinking Rachel_, Sami thought as she issued one last set of orders to a flight of Pelicans carrying Marines from Bravo Company of the 543rd division, then turned off the comm and ran into the damaged police station with Colonel Hoffman and General Prescott. Inside was a hive of activity as Marines hurriedly prepared for the coming assault. One heavy machine gun had already been mounted in a window on the first floor, and two more were in the process of being set up. There were likely even more set up on the roof. Marines were taking up positions at every window and at the holes in the northeast wall. Quartermasters were busy throwing magazines and grenades to the Marines rushing to their combat positions, and Sami nearly got hit in the face as she entered one of the partially destroyed rooms along the northeast wall. There was a huge hole in the outer wall of the room, extending from the floor to the middle of the ceiling. It afforded an excellent view over a street and several buildings, probably small businesses, that had been almost completely leveled, offering several blocks of relatively clean sightlines. Those same sightlines also offered a glimpse at a detachment of Shadows, Brute Choppers, Ghosts, and Prowlers heading towards the base as well.

The lieutenant general barely had time to get into a firing position at the edge of the gap before the battle began. The UNSC forces opened up first with heavy weaponry, catching a few of the incoming Covenant dropships by surprise.

Rocket fire and a few tank shells had cut down three phantoms, but by that time the Shadows had begun pulling up and adding their own firepower to the mix. The tank was soon silenced, but not before three more shells had taken out one of the Shadows and its deployed troops.

It was at this time that the bulk of the Brute forces began to unload from their transports. As they did, the heavy machine gun emplacements began to open fire as well. Sami could hear two of the guns blazing away on the roof of the station, and several more in adjoining rooms. They were soon joined by the deep booming of her sniper rifle. While the M107 Barrett .50 cal sniper rifle had been designed as a long-range, anti-material rifle, it had lost its old function due to improved armors and weaponry. Indeed, the UNSC's standard issue sniper weapon, the SRS99D, fulfilled the Barrett's old role far more effectively. Consequently, Sami's rifle became an anti-infantry weapon. Its ten round clip, high power, and relatively rapid firing rate all made it a nice weapon for taking out lesser Covenant species with extreme ease, especially four-foot aliens who had suicidal tendencies and came running towards the sniper screaming something about enjoying their "bright blue balls"…usually right before they blew up. Even Brutes went down without too much effort, though their armor and high tolerance of pain meant that they weren't usually going down in one shot, either.

As the battle raged on, the Brutes slowly gained the upper hand. First one, then the other machine gun on the roof stopped firing, and then a Phantom began hovering directly over the building. Sami was still aiming down her scope, and had just nearly blown a Brute's head off with a lucky shot to its unarmored neck, when something big and heavy landed right next to her. Peeling herself away from the little world of the sniper scope, Sami found a Brute warrior standing right next to her, arm raised to bring the spiker down on her skull. She tried to take advantage of her reaction speed - the fastest ever recorded - but she was too close to the alien, and her rifle was too long to bring to bear in such close quarters. Suddenly, the Brute's head disappeared in a shower of bone, brains, and purple blood, which proceeded to coat the wall above the lieutenant general. Looking around as the headless body fell to the floor with the sound of a large, wet dog being dropped onto linoleum, she saw Colonel Hoffman standing on a chair behind an overturned table, holding a M90 shotgun mere inches away from where the Brute's head had been.

"Looks a lot prettier without a face anyway," he remarked.

As Hoffman ducked back down to load another shell into his shotgun, a second Brute dropped into the room from the other side of the hole. This time, Sami was in a position to bring the .50 cal to bear at her hip, and quickly emptied five rounds into the Brute. Its armor absorbed three bullets before failing, allowing one round to punch through into its chest, while the fifth high-explosive round struck it in the neck, sending a spray of alien blood over the lieutenant general's chest and face. Suddenly, a Marine stuck his head in the doorway of the room.

"Evacuate the building!" he shouted. "We're being overrun!"

"Great way to start the day, huh?" Prescott asked Sami, sarcasm dripping from every word. As they left the police station, they could see four Marines at the bottom of the stairway to the roof. One, a girl with a light machine gun, took several spikes to the neck and fell where she stood. Another Marine tried to take her place, but instead took a Brute Shot grenade to the chest. A second round injured two more of the Marines. The officers didn't see any more, however, because by that time they had exited the front doors of the police station to find chaos on the streets. There were Marines and Covenant all over the place, fighting from inside building and from the street itself. Sami stood watching the chaos for a few seconds before she heard the distinctive triple-crack of a BR55 and the double-click of a shotgun being cocked directly behind her. Taking a quick glance back, she saw Colonel Hoffman taking up position to the side of the doors and General Prescott down on one knee firing a battle rifle that he had picked up somewhere. Taking her cue from that, Sami dropped to one knee as well and brought her rifle up to her shoulder. As she scanned the street, she saw Colonel Norman firing his pistol at a group of Grunts. He had thrown his formal uniform shirt off recently, as it was lying near his feet. He was also completely oblivious to the Brutes standing just behind him.

"Colonel Norman!" Sami shouted to the logistics officer. "Behind you!"

He spun around quickly enough, but he was too late. The closest Brute picked him up by the neck, holding him at least three feet off the ground. Seeing the position the Colonel had been put in, Sami quickly aimed at the Brute's head and pulled the trigger.

At the exact same moment, a Jackal sniper across the street was doing the exact same thing, only he was aiming at the redhead. The first shot from his Particle Beam Rifle plowed through the air far faster than any bullet, and slashed across Sami's right arm, carving a line across her forearm and upper arm as if it were making an upside-down "A". The second shot, fired off quickly after the first, gouged a line through the armor over the lieutenant general's right shoulder.

The shots would normally not have been problematic. The injury, though painful, would heal fine, without scarring, and the second shot had only caused superficial damage to the armor. In the situation, however, they doomed Colonel Norman. The impact of the particle beams had been enough to throw Sami's aim off just enough that the single headshot she made failed to fully compromise the Brute captain's armor. She had pulled the trigger again as soon as she felt the first shot hit, but a gun can't fire without a bullet in the chamber, and the action on the fifty-cal hadn't loaded one in yet. Her second shot and the Jackal's also coincided, causing the last round of the magazine to miss its intended target. As she reloaded, Sami could only watch helplessly as Colonel Norman was thrown to the ground by one of his legs like a rag doll, and a distinct red stain about twice the radius of his head appeared on the concrete beneath him. In the meantime, Prescott had traced the particle beam trails back to the Jackal sniper and dispatched him with a quick three round burst to the head.

That was when the shit started hitting the fan.

Colonel Hoffman's shotgun barked, then he went flying as a Brute came out the door of the police station and knocked him away. Sami whipped around and fired her rifle into the Brute as he moved towards Prescott. As that alien fell, the Brute who had killed Colonel Norman ran up to the officers as well, grabbing Sami by her hair and lifting her off the ground when she turned around to face him.

Sami yelped in pain, but quickly recovered and pulled out her combat knife. She quickly slashed it across the alien's neck before it could respond, then swept it above her head, cutting her own hair. The pain coming from her head ceased instantly, and was replaced by a much more dull pain as she landed face-up on the concrete sidewalk. She had dropped her knife in the fall, but that hardly mattered. As the alien tried to roar down at her, making a disturbing gurgling sound through his slit throat in the process, she unloaded her M6E into the roof of his mouth. It took the whole clip, but eventually, the beast died, and would have fallen on top of her if Prescott hadn't pulled her out of the way.

"Thanks, Joe" Sami said as she accepted his aid, then turned toward the last place she had seen Colonel Hoffman. He was lying on his back, having been knocked down by a Brute chieftain wielding a hammer. Hoffman tried to reach for his shotgun, but the chieftain stomped on his chest, keeping him from moving, then raised his hammer as if to drive the handle into the colonel's face like a spear. Sami acted quickly. A flash of metal, the sound of a projectile flying through the air, then an impact with soft flesh all occurred in rapid succession. The end result was a combat knife sticking out of the chieftain's eye, which apparently pissed the chieftain off enough that he released his left hand's grip on the hammer so he could pull it out.

While the Brute was distracted, Colonel Hoffman, no longer fully pinned, managed to reach out and grab his shotgun, which he then used to blow the alien's right arm off, effectively disabling the threat of being hammered to death. Rather than recoil in pain, however, the chieftain simply roared and grabbed the colonel by the throat with his remaining hand. He looked ready to throw Hoffman straight at the other two officers, until a sudden stream of tracer fire lanced in from above, breaking the chieftain's grip and ultimately dropping him dead. Within three seconds, four hornets swooped past directly overhead, all with Marines on the jumpseats. The lead hornet had a wavy red pattern on the wings and tail, like flowing red hair mixed in with flames, and the right-side passenger appeared to be armed with a mounted machine gun. Looking up and around, Sami could see the modified Hornets diving out of the sky, the ends of the wings and the engine nacelles angled so that all the thrust they could generate was directed backwards for the assault, then quickly coming out of their dives by twisting the ends of their wings back to normal and directing the engine thrust as far forward as possible.

"Well, well, well," she said, smirking. "Looks like the cavalry has arrived, boys!" Almost immediately, she had her comm out and was connecting to the leader of the Hornet flight. A lone Banshee, however, also took note of the Hornets at that moment as well. It didn't maneuver, didn't boost, just lazily drifted from right to left, spraying plasma at the unsuspecting Marines. When the first Hornet went down, the comm link was fully set up. When the second Hornet went down, Sami tried to issue a warning to the lead Hornet.

"Rachel, you've got a Banshee on your six!" Even as she spoke those words, Sami knew there was no way her sister would respond in time. The Hornet could turn on a dime, true, but it didn't make that turn very quickly, and the Banshee was too close. The machine gunner on the right side of the craft couldn't turn his gun to the rear, and the other Marine didn't have a clean shot on the alien craft with her sniper rifle.

And just as the plasma fire was about to reach the Hornet, another "_deus ex machina_" moment occurred. A beam of bright red light suddenly sliced through the Banshee, destroying it just in time. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sami changed frequencies on her comm.

"Was that you, Nighthawk?" she said to some figure who clearly wasn't present.

"Roger," the cold, dry voice of another human female returned.

"Did you make that shot on the wing?"

"Roger again." A little exasperation this time.

Sami looked off into the sky as if searching for something. "How did you do that? I mean, that must have been really akward…"

"That doesn't matter. What does matter is that this damn Spartan Laser isn't recharging itself from the Raven suit."

"Fuck!" Sami swore into the comm. "Ted said he fixed that! Damn it, we should have just taken the problem to Michael. He would have figured it out."

"Yeah well, life sucks like a Hoover vacuum cleaner. Nighthawk out." And with that, the mysterious woman on the other end of the comm dropped the link.

"What was that about, General?" Prescott asked out of curiosity.

"Things that don't concern you, Joe," she said, watching the Hornets and Marines clean up the remaining Covenant presence in the immediate area. "Things that don't concern you." She tried to turn her mind away from the carnage that the battle had resulted in, but it was everywhere around her: people, not all military, were missing limbs, were injured by shots from the Brutes' spikers - quite possibly the most barbaric weapons ever used on the field of war, with the exception of the flamethrower - injured by plasma burns, or killed by the Brutes' raw physical strength, like Colonel Norman. Remembering the unfortunate fate of the logistics officer, Sami walked over to where his body lay, face smashed in by the impact with the ground. Sami silently threw his old uniform shirt over his face, then slowly ambled over to the lead Hornet from Alpha flight. The Marines on the jumpseats had already unlatched the connectors on the back of their armor and their boots - connectors that held the Marines in as the Hornet made high speed maneuvers - and were waiting next to the cockpit as the pilot jumped out. Sami was about twenty feet away when the Marines noticed her, though only one, the girl with the SRS99D, snapped to attention and saluted.

"At ease, Gunnery Sergeant Hansen," Sami said calmly before turning to the pilot. "Nice to see you finally bring your ass into the fight, Rachel."

"You know," Rachel began, then removed her helmet and let her long, red hair flow down her back. Sami considered it stupid and showy, but her younger sister didn't really care. "I don't see why I should have to come save your ass, Sis, since you're older than me and all. You should be able to take care of yourself."

"You said it yourself: I'm your older sister. Therefore, you have to do whatever I say." Both sisters got a laugh out of that. Sami noticed once again that for some reason, Rachel's grey eyes brightened considerably when she laughed. Her own eyes, or so she had been told, never seemed to brighten or dim very much from that dull brown color they normally were, except during the four years she had spent with her genetic daughter. Not a topic she wanted to remember right then.

"So, Sami," the male Marine said, "now that Vanessa and I are _here_ and not out _there_," - both directions were accompanied by hand gestures indicating the stated location - "what are your orders for our little section of Bravo Company?"

"Wait for the rest of Bravo Company to show up, then find some Warthogs and accompany the first group of Siegebreakers into the city. You'll be heading east to look for any signs of Echo Company from your division, since we lost contact from them a while back. Don't count on much support from the skies, though. If my ride in was any indication, there's going to be a shitload of Covenant air power above you, and we don't have enough Shortswords or Sparrowhawks to make a difference. You got that Captain Dowling?"

Bravo Company's commander nodded. "You forgot two things: one don't get killed; and two, don't let your friends get killed."

Sami laughed bitterly, and glanced away in Rachel's direction. Before anyone could so much as blink, Sami had covered the distance between the siblings and swatted the flask Rachel was draining away from her mouth, spilling whatever alcoholic beverage it contained all over the concrete.

"Goddamn it, sis, I was just taking a drink! There's nowhere near enough in that flask to get me drunk!" Rachel shouted, glaring at her sister.

"I don't give a flying fuck if you're wasted, mildly intoxicated, or buzzed," Sami shouted back, walking right up to Rachel in order to take full advantage of their height difference. "I catch you drinking on the job one more Goddamn time, and I swear I _will_ court martial your ass so hard you'll be spending your dishonorable discharge locked in a bathroom with a tube of soothing cream. You understand that?"

Rachel cringed, but remained stalwart for the time. "Would you really do that to your own sister? I don't think you'd be as willing to court martial-"

"You don't get it. I have no intention of allowing any charges of nepotism in this family. You've earned your rank so far, now keep it." Sami began to turn to the other Marines, but remembered something and stopped. "By the way, if you _ever_ bring up what you were about to bring up again, I will make your life a living hell."

Rachel cringed away from the verbal lashing. She had deep respect for her older sister, since she had only been eight when their father had died. Sami was her inspiration, and, oddly enough, almost a father figure, since their mother had never had a very forceful spirit. Rachel shared the same slow-aging genetics as her sister, so the two women looked about the same age, but Rachel was always the submissive one. Took after her mother more than she wanted to. Sami just had her father's forceful attitude, which the younger redhead couldn't match.

Sami turned back to the Bravo Company Marines. "No, don't even get shot by those Brutes' spikers," she corrected, grimacing. "Damn things leave the worst wounds I've ever seen. So, yeah, stay alive." She then turned to the girl standing behind Mason. Vanessa Hansen stood at about the same height as the lieutenant general, which was a good three inches taller than Rachel. Hansen had warm brown hair and a pair of bright, sky-blue eyes. For some reason, those particular features reminded Sami of another old song she still listened to, one by a band called Guns 'N' Roses. "You especially, kid," she said to Hansen. "I need at least one of my trainees to survive this war."

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I'll be fine." Hansen was straightforward in her reply, although it had a hint of teenage self-interest lurking in it.

"You're sure about that, kid?" the lieutenant general asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I am fucking sure about that!" Hansen shouted back "I can handle my own fucking life for this mission, alright?"

Sami smiled. "That's the spirit, girl. Just don't get cocky." She then turned and walked towards Hoffman and Prescott. Behind her, she could hear Mason yell "Hey, Graves. Sergeant Andrew Graves! Andy Graves, where the fuck are you?! We need you to get to work on some of these Warthogs that got hit! Get over here you stupid Brooklyn mechanic!"

"Jesus Christ, Captain. You don't have to make such a big deal about it. I mean…" Graves' voice trailed off as Sami met up with the other two officers and began walking back towards the fire department building. They stopped for a moment on the street just outside the building when Prescott brought up Colonel Norman.

"Damn, man. Norman shouldn't have gone out like that. He was just a logistics officer! I don't know what he was even doing, trying to fight out there in the streets…" Prescott sighed.

"It's a shame that he went out like he did, but you know," Sami said, "he had spirit. He wasn't a coward. Everyone one wants to be a war hero," and here it was her turn to sigh. "But the thing is, no one ever realizes just how brutal war-"

"Ma'am?" interrupted one of the radio operators, who was running out of the HQ building towards Sami. "There's a call on the comm systems for you, on channel…" he rattled off the number, then continued. "Callsign 'Ghost Recon'. He said you'd recognize it."

She nodded. "Right that would be Sergeant Bito. Thanks for letting me know." She pulled out her own comm and began walking off towards one of the supply sheds. "You doing OK, recon?"

"I'm doing fine," a male voice came over the comm. It's owner was obviously still young, but he sounded like he'd seen more than his share of fighting already. "I need confirmation that I am on a secure channel and that I am talking to Lieutenant General Hartford before I can say more, however."

Reaching the supply shed - a requisitioned house - Sami checked the building for Marines. After a minute of searching revealed that it was empty, she finally replied to her caller.

"You know, SPARTAN-B170, I would have expected a little more respect from you after Max, Phoenix and I all risked our careers and the two Icarians risked their lives to pull you off Pegasi Delta in the middle of a fucking battle while avoiding detection from ONI, the fucking Covenant, and your own friends. You got that, Matthew?"

Sami grimaced slightly when Matthew simply responded without any audible change in mood. "Roger that, general. I see you haven't lost your excellent sense of humor."

_I wish he could just lighten up a bit_, she thought, but what she said was, "Why, thank you, but I believe it's about time we get to the business at hand. You had a report for me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've spotted a few crashed Phantoms down to the southeast of forward command, along the south bank of the Potomac. Looks like they're all Elite controlled, though. I've also spotted a few Brute patrols in the area, and one looked like it was hurrying back to report something."

"You think the Elites and the Brutes are going to have it out?"

"Looks like it to me. The Elites are fortifying their position around the wrecks, and I've seen a little activity in the air above that crashed cruiser."

"What do you think we should do?"

"Personally? I want to kill every single one of those bastards for what happened on Pegasi Delta. Looking at the bigger picture, if there's still more forces back at that cruiser, we might have found a new ally. I think there's a Zealot in that group, so whoever it is, he's probably pretty important."

Sami nodded. "Always good to have people of power in your debt," she said half-heartedly. When you got to the rank she was, people in power were people in ONI and admiralty, and the former could always back out on any debt of favors, usually because they knew more than you did. Besides, in her experience, people in power weren't the ones who were usually in debt to others. And she liked pissing ONI off.

"I sent you the coordinates," Matthew resumed his report. "If you want to help out, you should probably get moving quick, because I'm seeing what looks like a group of Brute armor heading that way."

"Thanks, kid. Anything else?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "…How's my sister doing?"

Sami sighed. _He had to bring that up_, she thought. "She's doing fine, Matthew. She's doing fine. Don't worry."

"Thanks, Sami." A hint of relief was evident in Matthew's voice, one of the few times his tone ever changed with his mood.

"No problem, kid. Talk to you later." She closed the connection and sighed. Matthew still seemed like he was missing something inside. Maybe it was losing everyone else on Pegasi Delta. Maybe it was because he wasn't allowed to introduce himself to his sister yet. Sami didn't dwell on it any longer, just walked out of the building back to where Prescott and Hoffman were waiting.

"Well, what's the situation, General?" Hoffman asked, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. "We got some Covenant who need their asses kicked for 'em or what?"

"If you don't mind saving a few Elites in the process, Vic," Sami answered. "I bet you probably lost a lot of friends to them, but they're on our side now."

"Yeah…" the colonel sighed, a mixture of disappointment and sadness, then picked up back into his gung-ho self. "So, I guess the split-jawed lizards figured out that their religion was trying to make them blow up the universe, but the apes were too stupid to listen. It's about time we show these alien bastards who the smartest, sexiest, and most badass species around is! And…"

Sami nodded distractedly as Hoffman rambled on about killing Brutes and issued orders over the comm for four pelicans and a few squads of Marines. Within twenty minutes, the small force was ready for the conflict. The lieutenant general was the last to board the dropships, sitting across from Brigadier General Prescott in the rearmost seats. As the hatch closed, Sami's stare remained fixed on a wounded soldier, a female Marine with a few spikes in her stomach, laid out on a stretcher about twenty yards away from the tail of the Pelican. Her gaze remained fixed in that same direction even after the door had closed completely and the dropship had taken off.

"Sami," Prescott tried to get her attention, but she just kept staring off in the same direction. It was the famous "Thousand Yard Stare", a common symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder, and one known in the military in some form or another since at least World War I. Prescott merely bowed his head, knowing that the lieutenant general had had plenty of moments in her long, eventful life that could have caused or contributed to the disease. Looking up at her face, he wondered just which one was occupying her thoughts.

_Just like Jackie_, she thought. _That girl, bleeding out through a stomach wound, just like her. Just like me._

**Well, that's the revised first Chapter of Sami's War. I ended up adding a total of about 1,800 words to it, mostly due to Sami's old war story, which wasn't in the previous version. Thanks for reading, so if you could, drop off a review of the story as well. I'm always looking to improve as a writer.**


	3. Chapter 2: Warpath Part 1: SoD

**Chapter 2: **_**Warpath**_

Part 1: _Symphonies of Destruction_

**10****02 hours (Afghanistan Standard Time), April 24, 2004**

**Sol System, Planet Earth**

**Dailanor, Kandahar Province, Afghanistan**

"Smashing through the boundaries, lunacy has found me, cannot stop the Battery! Pounding out aggression, turns into obsession, cannot kill the Battery!"

"Sam…"

"Cannot kill the family, Battery is found in me!"

"Sam…"

"Battery!"

"Sami!"

"Huh?" Sami removed her ear buds and looked back at the person who was addressing her, to be met with snickers from all the Marines in the back of the Humvee. The redhead glared at the trio. "What?" she growled, irritation mounting every second she didn't get an answer.

Finally, the Marine sitting in the middle seat, a stocky girl with bright blue eyes, surprisingly pale skin, and black hair, stopped laughing long enough to answer the question. "Because, Sam," she began, "You're sitting up there headbanging and singing, and you're the only one who hasn't noticed."

The redhead gave her critic and good friend an exaggerated eye roll. "Oh, fuck you, Jackie. And fuck you guys for agreeing with her," she glared angrily at the two male marines sitting to either side of Jackie, both of whom were still chuckling. "You laugh, but better me singing than her. _I_ can sing on-key."

"Ya know, the corporal's got a point," the Marine to the left of Sami's friend said, looking at Jackie with a mischievous grin on his face. "You really can't sing on key."

The raven-haired lance corporal replied by slamming her fist into his shoulder as hard as she could. "Goddamn you, Mike! You're not helping!"

Mike cringed away from Jackie. "Ah, shit, that really hurt," he said as he rubbed his shoulder. Jackie punched him again, eliciting an unheard giggle from the redhead corporal up front. "Ow, fuck!" He turned to the other Marine in the back of the Humvee for help. "John, could you please-"

"Can you ladies knock it off back there?" All the Marines in the vehicle, including Sami, snapped to attention when the stern voice of the driver, an older man with coarse, light brown hair, made itself heard. "For Christ's sake," the group's squad commander, Sergeant Al Summers, scowled. "With all the grab-ass going on, you'd think this was a fucking college road trip, not a Marine convoy. You're all active duty soldiers," he growled, glaring at each and every one of them, letting his gaze rest on Sami for just a bit longer than the others. "And I expect you to act the part."

As Summers turned back to driving, Sami hung her head. She knew he hadn't chewed her out for listening to music, but because her music had started the whole mess. The sound of gravel crunching under the tires as the Humvee began to slow down caught the redhead's attention. Looking up just when the vehicle stopped, all she could see was a line of other Humvees sitting and waiting like cars at a drive-through. A small wisp of smoke whirled up from the front of the line.

"Lovely," Sergeant Summers hissed as he leaned back in his seat. "Someone up front must have hit an IED."

"Well, seeing as we have nothing else to do but wait, I'll be listening to loud music," the Corporal said, re-inserting her right earbud. She paused momentarily in the action of bringing her other earbud up to her left ear and glanced at Sergeant Summers. "Hit me if you need-"

Sami was cut off mid-speech as an external force desperately wanted her attention and seemed intent on following her instructions to get it. The front left end of the Humvee violently jerked upwards and a wave of volcanic heat entered the vehicle, accompanied by a glimpse of hell raging right outside Sergeant Summers' window. Less than half a second later, the vehicle roughly slammed back down as a hailstorm of hot lead began raining down on the convoy. As the left side of their Humvee was pelted with ammunition, the three Marines in back threw open the right door and scrambled out, putting as much of the vehicle between them and the ambushing Taliban soldiers as possible. Sami opened her door, but stopped and looked back at Sergeant Summers. The platoon commander wasn't moving. The corporal carefully reached around the left side of his neck to check for a pulse, but was instead greeted by a thin trickle of blood from under his ear. She withdrew her hand slowly. A piece of shrapnel from the RPG that had hit them earlier must have hit him and pierced straight through to his brain. Without really thinking, Sami wiped her bloodstained hand on her pants and slowly climbed out of the vehicle, temporarily oblivious to everything until a heavy sniper bullet glanced off her helmet, sending it flying off of her head and bringing her mind back to the fight. She quickly ducked behind the Humvee, extending the stock of her Heckler and Koch MP5 as she did so.

"I need my rifle," Sami said quietly as she clutched the MP5 to her chest. For one second, the sound of gunfire coming from the hill above the Marines sounded in time with the drum beats pounding into Sami's right ear. The percussive assault continued as the Marines began returning fire, M4's and M16's destroying the existing musical rhythm and adding their own, louder sounds to the sadistic symphony. Every so often, though, the hellish orchestras would throw a different sound into the mix. The _whiz_ of a supersonic bullet flying right overhead, like a short note on a cello, followed by the crack of the sniper rifle that fired it, a staccato note from the lead bass guitar player. The boom of an M82 echoing down the line like a trumpet blast. The scream of an RPG blazing down the hill and slamming into one of the Humvees with meteoric force, a mix of a long violin note and a powerful chord on an electric guitar suddenly interrupted by the sound of two heavy drum beats in rapid succession. Sami turned to look just in time to see the vehicle explode into a massive fireball, the pyrotechnics to accompany the hybrid between Lucifer's own orchestra and a heavy metal band, a live performance raging all over the hillside in that instant.

It was the terrible chorus, though, the Marines diving away from the exploding vehicle and the cries of "Medic!", "Man down!", and "Covering fire!" that snapped Sami out of her temporary stupor. She quickly pulled her submachine gun to her shoulder and aimed over the hood of the troop vehicle she was using for cover, but was forced to duck back behind the Humvee when a .30 caliber round buried itself in the vehicle's armor less than three inches away from her face. At that point, Sami finally realized that her own .50 cal sniper was still in the Humvee's trunk, and that no one had heard her ask for it.

"Jackie!" Sami shouted at the black haired Marine sitting at the back of the Humvee with an M16, who promptly ducked down out of the line of fire and faced Sami. "My rifle," the corporal stated simply.

Jackie nodded in reply, then removed her own helmet and untied the green strip of fabric she wore as a headband. "Here," she said, balling it up and tossing it to Sami. "Keep your hair out of your eyes."

The red-haired corporal simply nodded as she unwadded the fabric and began tying the headband behind her head. She watched Jackie move past Mike and John and crouch at the rear corner of the Humvee, just like a runner on the starting block. "On my mark," Sami said quickly as she finished tying off the headband. "3…2…1…NOW! Suppressive fire!"

An M16, an M4, and an MP5 all poked their muzzles out from behind the Humvee and began raking the hillside with a fusillade of hot lead. Meanwhile, Jackie burst from her crouch at the rear of the vehicle, whipping around the corner and unlatching the trunk before Sami had emptied half of her MP5's clip. Without missing a beat, the raven-haired Marine threw open the trunk and grabbed the long case within. Hauling it out of the trunk, she threw it on the ground right next to Mike, who had ducked behind the Humvee to reload his M16. He and Sami dragged the case over the dirt and gravel to make sure it was completely safe, the redhead heard one sound over the rest of the fighting. One shot, the crack of a Dragunov sniper rifle. Jackie stumbled backwards, a look nearing confusion on her face, before she clutched her stomach and fell to the ground screaming in pain.

Sami stared at her friend writhing on the ground for seconds that seemed like an hour. _Jackie…Jackie just got shot…just got shot…_ All she could see was the dark red, slowly expanding stain on her friend's stomach. Finally, she forced herself to look away. They had signed up voluntarily, they knew this could happen. Sami opened the case that contained her M82, and for the moment forgot all about Jackie. The matte black finish on the gun toned down the reflections that otherwise would have contributed to a sleek look, but that hardly mattered. At that moment, as her hands inserted a magazine and cycled the bolt, the piece of equipment in her hands, so capable at reaching out and delivering death from a distance, was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She quickly took a knee near the front wheel, resting the barrel of the long rifle against the Humvee's hood. As she brought the scope up to her eye, she caught sight of a single flash just above where she had the scope trained, followed almost immediately by the whiz of the 7.62 mm bullet flying past her head. Sami angled the gun up a little more, and found herself practically staring down the barrel of the enemy sniper's gun. There was no time to correct for wind or bullet drop both small. The redhead just held her breath and pulled the trigger.

Had it been a scene from a movie, the bullet would have gone through her target's scope and struck the man in the eye. Instead, the .50 caliber slug glanced off the scope, mangling it in the process, and struck the sniper in the middle of the forehead, retaining enough energy to blow a good deal of blood and gore out the back as it exited his skull.

Sami barely paid any attention to the aftermath of the shot. As soon as she saw blood spraying from her target, she swung the barrel of her rifle to the left and centered her focus on the nearest Taliban soldier. This time, the shot wasn't as urgent, and the redhead took full advantage of the time she had to line up a perfect shot. The fact that the rest of the enemy riflemen were much closer than the sniper didn't hurt. The M82 boomed, and the supersonic round ripped into the target's neck, nearly severing his head in a gruesome spray of blood and tiny bits of flesh. The barrel swung right and centered on the next target, an RPD gunner. One more shot, and the bullet pierced the man's left eye. One more kill. Sami swung her barrel left one more time. One enemy soldier was trying to run away, his AK-47 banging against his back as he ran. The corporal placed her crosshairs on the back of his head, then moved them forward, leading her target ever so slightly before firing. The round impacted the base of his skull, shattering it and his spinal column at the same time.

After that shot, Sami pulled herself away from scope for a second. In that second, she noticed that the hellish concert of machine gun fire had died down significantly. Most importantly, that distinctive chatter of Kalashnikovs firing had all but ceased. The fight was over. The redhead turned back to Jackie, only to find that Mike and John had already gotten two medics over to help the lance corporal out.

"Corporal Hartford!" The shout broke Sami's focus on her friend. She turned to see the company's executive officer jogging towards her. "Where's Summers?"

The redhead swallowed and locked eyes with the lieutenant. "Sergeant Summers is dead, sir." She barely managed to get the words out.

He closed his eyes and let out a pained sigh. "Goddamn it," he swore under his breath. "That's five of our non-coms…fuck." The XO paused and stared at Sami. "Corporal, if I remember correctly, you were close to making sergeant before you came over here. Why didn't you?"

"Disorderly conduct, sir." When the lieutenant furled his brow in confusion, she continued. "Playing my music too loudly, sir."

As the executive officer's gaze dropped to the earbud dangling about her chest, the corporal became acutely aware of the music still playing in her right ear. Her face reddened with embarrassment and she removed the right earbud as quickly as possible. The lieutenant shook his head and went on. "Seeing as you're the most competent corporal in the company," he said somewhat hesitantly, "I'm promoting you to leader of First Platoon, Second Squad. With Summers dead," he began to walk away, still looking at the corporal, "you're in charge now, Sergeant Hartford."

"Yes, sir," Sami said distractedly, her attention returning to Jackie with her superior's departure. The lieutenant's words seemed to bounce around inside her head as she stared at the medics attending to Jackie, an echo that drowned out the rest of the world and made time run slowly.

_You're in charge now, Sergeant Hartford…_

The medics pulled Jackie away from the crimson pool that was starting to form around the girl.

_You're in charge now…_

Jackie's body armor was stripped away, revealing the bright-red hole in her stomach.

_You're in charge now…_

Morphine shots in the arm, white bandages covering the wounds, and then whisked away on a stretcher.

_You're in charge now…_

That final wave before she was carried out of sight, as if to say "I'll be fine," so necessary, yet unconvincing.

_You're in charge now…_

_**BANG!!**_

Sami screamed in pain as her legs kicked out of their own volition, knocking her chair off balance as they pushed against the front of her desk. She spilled out of her seat, clutching the bright red hole in her left thigh. A revolver, a nine-chambered, modernized version of the LeMat used during the American Civil War, flew from her right hand and skidded across the wooden floor of her office.

_Thirty days…_ Sami mused bitterly. _Thirty days of playing Russian roulette, and I finally die because I fucked up and shot myself in the leg. Max would have a field day with that one._ Too many unsuccessful attempts at spinning the chamber and putting the barrel to her temple without a result had finally gotten to her. How she had managed to shoot herself, even she didn't really know. She had hit the gun in anger, and maybe she pulled the trigger as she did so, or maybe the hammer just got jostled, but regardless of how, it went off, drilling a messy .38 caliber hole in her thigh.

The lieutenant general forced herself to let go of her leg. Responding to the unexpected shot to her leg had been instinct. Anyone would respond to the pain; a soldier would respond to the threat of bleeding out. At that point, however, bleeding out was exactly what Sami wanted to do. She watched the crimson pool slowly spreading from her leg, fascinated by it almost. That was her life, a fitting end to it all. She had blinded herself from reality and her feelings for far too long. This was her disconnect, and she didn't want anything to stop the bleeding now. She felt too hopeless and worthless to live. It was guilt that made her feel that way, guilt that made her feel disgusting and filthy. Her blood itself was tainted, and now it was draining on the floor, carrying her crime away.

The door suddenly slammed open, and Sami saw a blurry figure rush into the room. The flowing red locks of her sister were little more than a shifting blob at that point, as darkness was already beginning to creep in around the edges of the older sibling's vision. Rachel just stood and stared for a few seconds, trying to figure out what had happened. As soon as she realized the gravity of the situation, however, she stopped trying to figure out what was going on and rushed to Sami's head. Even in her weakened state, the lieutenant general knew what Rachel was trying to do: take her headband and use it as a tourniquet. Unfortunately, her loss of strength and disadvantageous position made Sami's struggles to stop Rachel ineffective.

The one thing the lieutenant general could hold onto, though, was the fact that Rachel was already too late. Sami could feel the strength continue to flow out of her even as the tourniquet tightened. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. As everything began to go black, she saw her daughter. _I tried to do it all for you_, she thought to the vision, _I tried, and I failed. Forgive me, child. _The edges of darkness crept in, slowly obscuring all of the girl's features except her face. _Those beautiful eyes…_ _I'll see you on the other side some day, my love._ The blackness finally consumed the vision, and Sami felt her mind slide, peacefully and painlessly, into nothingness. Peace at last, for peace that would last. A perfect fading to black…

…only it didn't fade back in to the bright, white world of the base hospital she remembered waking up in after the suicide attempt, but instead to the dimmer, red interior of a Pelican dropship's troop bay. Not the ambient noise of doctors talking, punctuated by the persistent beeping of an EKG machine, but Marines cracking a joke over the drone of jet engines. Most importantly, not the smells of clean linen and disinfectant, but the smell of tobacco smoke, which crept into her thoughts and her lungs and forced her back to reality.

Sami instinctively coughed, trying to get the foul gas out of her lungs. A lifetime of being a marathon runner made her somewhat obsessive about keeping her lungs clean, and she suspected she had a slight allergic reaction to tobacco anyway. Holding her breath, she swung her head right, looking for the idiot who was smoking in a confined room with her. The examination didn't take long. Colonel Hoffman sat a few seats forward of the General on the other side of the Pelican, puffing contentedly on a cigar.

"Vic," Sami began, practically gagging in disgust on the acrid smoke wafting from the cigar. "You have ten seconds to put that out, or I'm putting my boot through your head."

Hoffman looked at the general in complete disbelief. He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off as Sami began counting down in a cold tone matched in temperature by the gaze she was giving him. The colonel sighed, then pulled his stogie out of his mouth, violently threw it to the floor of the Pelican, and ground out the embers with his boot. "That good enough for ya?" he asked with a tone of irritation.

"What's so goddamn hard about going without a cigar for thirty minutes, Victor?" Sami shot right back. "I'm your commanding officer, and one who knows what she's talking about. If I were to tell you to go fistfight a Brute, you had fucking better do it, because I have a reason for giving you that order. And my reason for telling you to put that cigar out is simple. I. Don't. Like. Smoke. If you want to light up a stogie, you had better not be within thirty feet of me, else my boot is going up your ass."

Sami leaned back and let out an annoyed huff. It always amazed her how Colonels seemed to think they didn't have to follow the same rules as other officers. Oddly, it seemed unique to Marine and Army officers. None of the Navy Captains she knew had that attitude problem. She shook her head. The Marines needed something to improve the mood, and that verbal lashing definitely didn't help. The redhead pulled her PDA out of the thigh pocket she kept it in and began setting up a comm line.

"I hope you don't mind if I commandeer the speakers back here for a little, do you Major?" Sami asked the pilot, a small mischievous grin on her face.

"Go ahead, General," the man replied calmly and a bit too seriously. "Just a warning, in the event of an emergency I'll have to deny your override."

The redhead nodded to herself. "Staying alive is good, Major. Thanks for the override. Keep us safe." She closed the connection and began scrolling through a list of music on the PDA. She needed something that would get the guys pumped, even if they didn't particularly care for the genre. A very familiar song came to mind instantly, and soon the acoustic intro to the song was playing over the speakers. It was greeted with mixed reactions by most of the Marines. That is, until forty seconds in, when it suddenly shifted to the heavy sounds of thrash metal. At that point, almost every Marine in the Pelican lashed out at Sami's musical tastes.

Her favorite response, however, had to be the one Marine private who was too stupid to realize his musical tastes were even worse than hers. "Dammit, general, I thought we were going to get modern country with that intro, and you hit us with flip music?"

"Metallica is classic metal, jarheads. This is a part of your history. Now sit back and listen to the music. Nothing says 'get pumped' like old rock and roll."

"I can think of a few things," a lieutenant spoke up. "There's a lot of modern bands that can deliver that mood. Excelsior, Highball, Durandal, Mass Infection…"

Sami shook her head and ignored the man as he rattled off more bands. The metal bands were decent, but the compilation of flip and electronic bands had nothing on the music of her era. And they all owed their existence to the pioneers of music from the twentieth and twenty first centuries.

"_Lashing out the action, returning the reaction, weak are ripped and torn away! Hypnotizing power, crushing all that cower, Battery is here to stay!"_


End file.
